


Mistakes

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-14
Updated: 2006-06-14
Packaged: 2018-09-06 11:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8748223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Jensen's hands are something Jared has a lot of experience with. They write, they type, they drive, and they manhandle Jared every damn day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Mistakes

**Mistakes**  
Disclaimer: None of it's mine, I don't know these boys and it didn't happen. FICTITIOUS, YO. And NC-17, baby, aww yeah.  
  
 

* * *

  
  
Jensen's hands are something Jared has a lot of experience with. They write, they type, they drive, and they manhandle Jared every damn day. He has seen them do a dozen things that are scary (bees) or cool (shotgun) or gross (setting corpses on fire). He has been scratched by Jensen's bracelet and ring, by his stubby fingernails. His knowledge of those hands is intimate and extended.  
  
Jared watches them softly press the girl's breasts together, flick thumbs over nipples, and he thinks this might be a level of intimacy he was not prepared for.  
  
His mouth is dry.  
  
Jensen's backstage on the sound stage they're using today. They shot late, and Jared had thought he was the last one out. _Surprise._ A dark-haired woman with lush, beautiful lips and hips kneels at Jensen's feet and looks up at him, dark and sexy. She's leaning back, giving Jensen access to her, and he stands there and takes full advantage. He cups her breasts in his palms, weighs them and presses them together. Jared can see him lick his lips, but he doesn't bend down.   
  
"Take it out," Jared hears him say, the low, dark voice drifting quietly across the empty stage. Jared thinks for one insane second that Jensen is talking to him, and then his face burns as he snaps out of it and realizes he's _staring_ at his costar-cum-best friend getting it on with some chick backstage. He is one second from bolting, and then it's too late, because the girl's got Jensen's jeans open and she's busy with her hands, and Jensen's groaning just loud enough to be heard. "God, yeah..."  
  
The girl gives Jen a little smile – that little smug smile girls get when they've got you like that, all hot and bothered. She's got his cock out and Jared can see it as she traces her nipples across the tip and shivers. Jen shivers too, drags her up and over to some other place that Jared can't see but presumably is better suited for what he has in mind. Frozen, Jared wants to say something, but despite what everybody says, there are times you should talk and there are times you should shut the hell up, and Jared knows the difference.  
  
Mostly.  
  
There are sounds coming from them still, back where Jared can't see, and he has a decision to make. He's uncomfortably aware that Jensen's brunette had some enticing attributes, and he feels the low-down throb that means he'd like to follow them. Truth be told, he'd like to follow them right into the room, see if he could convince them to let him join in. It's not like there are any restrictions on Jared, not anymore.  
  
God.  
  
Fucking Sandy.   
  
He'd cheated, he'd been in the wrong. She blew up, like he knew she would, like she was perfectly entitled to do, but three days later she walked back on the set like nothing was wrong, all perfect plastic hair and lips, bending toward him with a smile. Jared had found himself spitefully wondering if her publicist had finally gotten through to her.  
  
He'd kissed her, like a trooper, but he'd been livid. What kind of a person gives up a perfectly reasonable i'm-Nick-and-you're-Jessica scenario like the one he'd given her? When they'd got together to forestall rumors about the Paris Hilton thing, it'd seemed like a good idea, but lately Jared just couldn't take her. They'd been fighting and it obviously wasn't working out. Anybody not raised by **wolves** would have tastefully fucked off by now.  
  
_That's what you get for shacking up with the neighborhood drama queen,_ he can hear Jensen telling him in his pristine California accent. _Girls like that, they think they're the next Jessica._ (Jensen takes delight in referring to Jessica Alba by her first name, because he knows it twigs Jared, who thinks she's hot.) _One minute you're in it together, y'know, playing to the press like you're supposed to. The next you're in some crazy psychodrama they wind up playing it to the press anyway, only this time you didn't sign on._  
  
Jared hates that fucking California accent. Jensen has a way better one than he does, he knows, but does he have to be so smooth about it all the time? Can't he ever slip up? It's really fucking aggravating.  
  
Just as that thought floats through Jared's head, Jen does slip. "Good goddamn," he says, and it eases from his throat like Texas honey. Jared smirks at him, almost expects him to reel around and punch Jared in the shoulder until he remembers that Jen doesn't know he's here. He blushes, feels like a pervert, but Jen's girl is making those hot little noises and Jared's really fucking hard, so he sneaks quietly forward until he can see again. Fuck it. Jensen would understand.  
  
The girl's bent forward over the well-padded arm of a high couch. Her shirt's up, and her hands are busy between her legs. Jen is in front of her, bent over her beautiful body, his jeans loose around his hips as he rocks against her. The muscles in his arms are tense, and as Jared steps just far enough around, he can see Jen's dick sliding between her breasts, his fingers splayed over her ribs and palms pressing together. She looks up at him, her mouth open and suggestive, blatantly erotic.  
  
Jared bites his lip, feels the blush rise in his cheeks as he presses the heel of his palm against his cock. The girl looks up at Jen through her lashes, makes hot little noises as she slips her fingers in little movements that make her hips buck. Jen's watching her, just like Jared's watching her, and it can only go on for a minute before Jen's pulling back and helping her up, sitting on the arm of the couch and pulling her on top of him.  
  
Jared tries to pull back into the shadows a little, now that Jen's facing him, but she's right in the way, and Jen pulls her skirt up over her ass and slides his hands down to cup her, make her rub up against him. Jared figures he's not paying much attention to the shadows, and slides his own hand up and down, watching her dark curls tumbling down her back.  
  
When Jen holds up one of her knees and slides into her, they both make that high, pained sex sound, and Jared hears the same sound slip from between his own lips not a second after.  
  
Jensen's head jerks up and their eyes fuse over her shoulder. Jared can practically feel the sparks rain down across the space that separates them, skittering across the floor, bright white.  
  
Jen's eyes close again. He starts driving into her, teeth gritted, slips his hand between their bodies. She wails and cries out almost instantly, writhing against him as she jerks in his arms. He holds her tight, and kisses her down, and as he helps her get off him and puts them both back together, it feels like it's on fast-forward. He's smooth and smiling, pats her on the ass and tells her to go back to the hotel, and she smiles at him, wide open.  
  
Jared wonders how she can possibly not notice that he's still hard.  
  
He isn't sure if Jen really saw him, or if he just imagined it, but that pretty much cinches it. When she's gone, Jensen takes four steps toward him and stops. He doesn't say a word, his face in shadow, and Jared's just not sure what the fuck is going on. Jen must be mad at him, but then why would he keep going with the girl? Did Jen really not see him? Is he safe?  
  
And then comes Jared's name, short and furious. Jared winces, but he steps out from the shadows and hopes his t-shirt hides his erection. It doesn't.  
  
"You know what they say about curiosity, Jared?" Jen's voice is low, accent-heavy and difficult to read. He almost seems like he might be joking, just one of their usual back-and-forths. God, Jared hopes so.  
  
So he tries it. "Curiosity went straight to my _dick_ ," he drawls in full-on Texas mode, smiling his joking half-smile. "That's what they fuckin' say about curiosity."  
  
Turns out Jensen's not joking. "You wish you were her, man." It's a statement, not a question.   
  
A long pause spirals out between them. Too long. Jared's mouth opens, then closes. "Listen, Jensen, I'm sorry. I…"  
  
"My ass, you're sorry. I should fucking well kick your ass from here to San Antonio." Jen's accent is non-existent on 'San Antonio', but he slurs the fuck out of 'Jared'. Impossible to tell what that means.  
  
Jared fidgets and glances away. "Man, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to..."  
  
"The hell you didn't!" Jensen interrupts, getting close, right up in Jared's face. He pokes a finger in Jared's chest, and Jared squirms uncomfortably. "You stood right there and got yourself an eyeful, didn't you? Did you fuckin' follow me from set? Meant to? It just isn't the fuckin' point, Jared!"  
  
Jared's squirming under the words, feeling guilty even though Jen's not making much sense. But at the same time, he hears the slipslide Texas drawl rounding out the consonants, and he's hung out with the guy long enough to know that that doesn't mean he's mad. Uncomfortably, he's aware of how close Jen is, and how much he smells like sex. How Jen's still hard, and how Jared is too. How the top button on Jensen's jeans is still open. Jared can't stop flicking his eyes down to it, even as Jen rails at him. Finally Jensen notices, and snaps at him.  
  
"What? What are you lookin' at?" His eyes flick down his own body, and he sees the solid press of his cock against the buttons of his fly. Jared can feel the moment shift around them as Jen realizes how hot he still is. The temperature in the air around them rises, Jared is certain, by about twenty degrees, and he does the only thing he can think of.  
  
He takes a deep breath, steels himself, reaches out and presses his palm against Jensen's cock.  
  
And he looks up at Jensen's wide, wild eyes, scared but a little belligerent. _Yeah, I want this, what're you gonna do about it?_ Jared has no fucking idea what he's doing, but it feels... God, it feels good. Hot and heavy and rough – perfect.  
  
It's touch and go as Jen looks at him, crazy. Jared's sure he's gonna take a swing, but then hands slam against his shoulders and Jared's stumbling back against the nearest wall, and then Jensen's mouth is on his.  
  
Even more shocking are the helpless little noises Jen makes; he sounds out of control, which is so very unlike Jensen. It makes Jared feel just the littlest bit like he's won something, like he beat Jensen somehow, because Jen's just fucking constantly all over everything, never fucks up, never sticks his foot in his mouth, and much as he likes the guy, that's downright irritating, is what that is.  
  
So Jen's grinding into his palm and shoving him against the wall and he's holding Jared's hair so hard it hurts. And that's all real nice, but Jared would kind of like to be a participant in all this, instead of just the body Jen is mauling, so he pushes at Jen's shoulders a little and tries to turn his head.  
  
It doesn't work so good, because Jen drops to his knees and tears at Jared's fly, and thinking just is _not_ happening anymore. Good thing, too, cause if it were, he'd probably try to stop this. He meant it, but he shouldn't mean it, and they're working together. This is probably really, really stupid.  
  
 

* * *

  
  
Jared's wearing button-fly 501s. Jensen hears the metallic ring of each button popping as he tears at Jared's fly, wanting them open, now, now. He doesn't want to think about it, because if he does, he'll stop, and then he really will have to think about it, and that...  
  
Fuck it.  
  
There's scraping of fingernails and denim as he wrenches at it, and he's vaguely aware that Jared is talking, but whatever he's saying, it's in a tone that Jensen doesn't want to hear. He only wants to hear that shivery sweet, eminently fuckable sound he heard before, the one that made him look over into the darkness and spot Jared there, pressing his hand against his cock and _staring_ at them like that. He wants it, and the second he has Jared's cock in his hand, he opens his mouth and goes down.  
  
Jared makes the sound instantly.  
  
Jared's head makes a hell of a thud against the wall. Jen feels fingers tighten in his hair, tight enough that he has to blink back tears, but he almost likes that for how distracting it is. He needs to be distracted, or else he'll think of the thick length on his tongue, the taste of it. And he can't do that.  
  
 

* * *

  
  
Jared's a lost fucking cause. His fingers are buried in Jen's hair, his head's back and his mouth is wide open as he groans and spreads his legs so he won't fall the hell down. He leans back, sighs, talks to Jensen because he never can shut his damn mouth. Tells him how good it feels, how he can't stand, calls Jen's name and tries to hold his hips still, which is really fucking hard, especially when Jen's fingers curl into the loose denim on those hips and push at him. He can't figure out what Jen wants, and then he realizes it's just as simple as Jen needing do do something with his hands, and Jared drags a ragged breath in and prays he won't think of something.  
  
He actually gets so far as to nervously lay a hand in Jen's hair, say his name in his best sadly-even-though-i'd-like-to voice.  
  
Jensen totally, completely ignores him.  
  
Jared's close, much closer than he wants to be, but it's fucking Jensen, so there's nothing he can do about that. He grits his teeth and lets Jen's hair go, digs his fingernails into his own palms. When there's nothing else he can do to stave off the inevitable, he gives fair and reasonable warning.  
  
"Jen-Jensen... Gonna..."  
  
And then the slick heat is gone and Jen's standing up, gripping Jared tight and jacking him. His eyes are locked on his hand, on Jared's dick, like he just can't believe it, and his free hand's braced on Jared's shoulder, pushing him back into the wall. Jared's desperate, though he couldn't say for what, and then Jensen meets his eyes, full of confusion and lust and some weird kind of rage. Jared cries out and comes for him, hands flashing out to grip Jen's jacket - Dean's jacket.  
  
Jensen watches him the whole way, is still watching him when Jared comes back to earth. There's an awkward silence, and then Jared tries to reach down, reciprocate, be a good guy.  
  
Jensen flinches.  
  
He stumbles back, looking like he just saw Mary Winchester's ghost, and then he turns around and stalks away, without a word. That leaves Jared standing against the wall with his clothes undone, his skin burning and scratched to hell, staring after him. Jared's aware that his mouth is hanging open, but he can't quite bring himself to close it, because what the fuck was that?  
  
He puts himself together and goes home, smelling Jensen whenever he turns his head or shifts. Of course he's furious.  
  
He was spying while Jen was having sex, of course. But nobody asked him to do that.  
  
Jared was the one who initiated contact, yes. But Jensen didn't have to drop down and...  
  
Jared didn't mean to do this. Tried to stop him. He talks himself into being angrier, feeling less guilty, because he's got to have something to do on the drive home.  
  
When he gets in and drops his keys on the table, the dogs run up and bowl him over, as usual. He scratches them and tries to play, but they can smell Jensen on him too and make a big production out of it.  
  
Even the dogs are against him. Jared heads straight for the shower and drops his clothes in the laundry. He won't wear them again until they're cleaned, even though they weren't all that dirty.  
  
 

* * *

  
  
They meet up again on set, as usual. Not five minutes have passed before they're into pretending like nothing happened - Jen smacks the back of his head for something and Jared bitches, it's just like riding a bike.  
  
Or, it's like riding a bike, if remembering how to ride a bike now and again developed intensely awkward silences while you're waiting for the next take to set up, especially when either one of you is shirtless, and you think the bike might be checking you out, but you can't ever quite catch it, so you're not sure.


End file.
